


Goodwill

by rikujo (helphiddlestoned)



Series: 25 Days of Fic [23]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 25 Days of Fic, Day 23: Carols, M/M, Rated for swearing, basically just a late night chat between two old men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 04:59:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13116552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helphiddlestoned/pseuds/rikujo
Summary: Peace on earth, a Christmas ideal and something they’re closer to in modern times than in the long years stretching behind Arthur. Who better to share it with than an enemy turned friend?





	Goodwill

**Author's Note:**

> Day 23! This is probably one of the more chilled out pieces. Hope you enjoy!

There was something to a church lit only with candles.

Outside, the world could turn back 100 years and yet so much would remain the same. The old stone walls still cool, the silence still hovering thick in the air amid the occasional, echoing cough, and Arthur still sitting on the same mahogany pew, his gloves tucked in his lap. With the flickering candlelight glowing in the darkness and everyone huddled into the pews, Arthur sat with the bright threads of carols still ringing in his ears.

It was perfectly peaceful.

Sometimes he didn’t come, these days.

Less of his populace regularly attended church and he too had grown complacent with it, but this year something had led him out of the house, down a familiar path, until he was sat at the back of the church.

He wasn’t shocked to find he still knew the words to the carols in the service, not after so many years, but he had been surprised when he found himself quietly singing along to a couple.

The atmosphere was somehow all-encompassing, the soft hush of the church blanketing everyone in it, and when the music swelled it dragged every fibre of his being with it. At some point in the middle, the tension he’d been carrying in his shoulders all month had relaxed.

But ten minutes ago he’d slipped his coat back on. Not only were churches as cold as they’d ever been, what with the high ceilings, but the service was drawing to a close and he had an appointment to keep.

The moment the last notes of the final carol drifted away, Arthur slipped out of his seat and made for the doors. The evening chill hit his lungs as he stepped out, his breath fogging before him as he pulled his gloves back on, and as he made his way out the church gate he buried his hands deep in his pockets to keep the cold from his fingers.

His peace lasted all the way down the road, nothing but his footsteps tapping against the paving stones and the occasional passer-by to bother him, and his eyes swivelled upwards to catch a glimpse of the stars as he turned the corner at the bottom of the road.

A clear, cold night, like so many others before—a perfect fit for the time of year.

“You look thoughtful.”

And there went his peace and quiet.

Turning back to the path, Arthur’s eyes alighted on Francis’s familiar figure waiting a short distance away, his back pressed against the gleaming black paint of his car. Arthur crossed the last stretch of pavement between them, taking his hands from his pockets to straighten his coat.

“You think so?”

“I know that face of yours, yes I think so. Does this have anything to do with you changing our meeting place, perhaps?” Francis asked, raising an eyebrow in question.

“I went to the carol service.” Arthur divulged, coming to a halt opposite him.

“Hm, are you thinking about _god_ , is that it?”

Arthur shook his head. “No. Perhaps I look thoughtful because it allowed me to hear myself think for once, though. It’s a rarity, what with the company I keep.” he finished pointedly, throwing Francis a flat look.

“I don’t appreciate the insinuation, Arthur, don’t think I haven’t noticed it.”

“You’re meant to notice it.”

Francis clicked his tongue. “So rude, even at Christmas, and when I came to pick you up too.” Francis tucked his hands in the pockets of his coat—a dark blue pea coat, the fabric fine enough to make Arthur wonder how ludicrously expensive it had been. “Perhaps I will drive off without you.”

“A fine idea that would be, since I have the house keys.” Arthur retorted.

Francis surprised him by laughing, shaking his head. “Mon cher, you are growing silly in your old age. You think I don’t have a key after all this time?”

Arthur sighed. “So you do.”

Francis’s eyebrows lifted. “What, no comeback? No telling me if you’re old aged that I’m positively _ancient_?” His head tilted curiously. “Are you losing your touch or has your peaceful evening mellowed you?”

“It’s Christmas, is it really so implausible that I might be nice?”

“Yes.” Francis replied without hesitation, a smile playing about his lips.

“You’re an arse, piss off.” Arthur grumbled half-heartedly but Francis’s smile only widened.

“There is the Arthur I know and love.”

Arthur stilled momentarily.

“…love.” he repeated softly. Francis gave a questioning hum. “You said know and _love_ , Francis.”

Francis blinked before frowning slightly. He got half way through shaking his head but then he froze in clear realisation. Arthur slowly began to smirk as he sighed.

“So I did.” he conceded reluctantly.

Arthur chuckled quietly. “No denial, no petty comeback? Are you quite sure you’re not the one _mellowing_?” Arthur murmured, taking half a step closer.

Francis languidly shrugged one shoulder. “We can call it Christmas cheer, no?”

“If I’m not allowed that excuse neither are you.”

Francis’s eyes flicked across to meet his. “Well perhaps we will have to do away with excuse entirely, then.” A smile half resurfaced on his face. “As you say, it is Christmas.”

Quiet settled as Arthur calmly perused his expression, considering the words.

“You think we’ll survive without our bravado to hide behind?” he asked at last.

Francis pushed away from the car, an action that drew them ever nearer as he straightened up. When a hand slipped out to capture the collar of Arthur’s coat to pull them closer, Arthur’s eyes flicked over him.

“We’ll just have to find out, won’t we?” Francis said softly.

They held steady for a moment, watching each other, and Arthur grew overly aware of the warmth that came from having Francis so close; a pleasant contrast to the cold air. When Francis leant a little closer, he closed his eyes without a thought.

It was slow, softer than they oft allowed themselves to be, but it was _warm_.

Arthur drew him closer, a hand settling on Francis’s hip in return, as their lips parted. It was easy to fall into but eventually there was a peel of distant laughter from around the corner, footsteps clacking against the pavement, and Arthur remember they were on a public street.

They broke apart. A smile twitched onto Arthur’s lips as they pulled away and he tucked his hands back in his pockets. “Come on,” he muttered. “We’re going home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are very much appreciated! You can also come and bother me at anglaisaph on tumblr ❤


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